No Quarter
by Gunboat
Summary: The Death Korps of Krieg, in high Wehrmachtian style, forcefully bring a rebellious planet to its knees. (R&R)


No Quarter - By Gunboat  
  
Captain Reinhardt Krause of the Death Korps looked forward, in the direction of the battle that was quickly unfolding. The night sky was sporadically illuminated by the muzzle flashes of some of the bigger guns, luckily on his side.  
  
This would be their second week on Giedi II, second moon of Giedi. Rebellious insurrectionists had seized the small moon's armory and were consolidating their grip on the tiny planetoid. Krause's unit, 38th Brigade, had been the closest Imperial Guard unit to the rebellious moon, and since Giedi's PDF was preoccupied dealing with the planetary branch of the insurrectionists, the sector's Warmaster ordered his unit to embark immediately to crush the uprising.  
  
But the rebels were not going down without a fight.  
  
Each inch of ground was a victory unto itself, since the rebels had dug themselves in, so the 38th was reduced to fighting in a series of hurriedly dug trenches. Each day was a push closer to the moon's headquarters. It was time, Krause thought, to take the battle to the enemy.  
  
-  
  
"Forward!" Captain Krause shouted over the noise of the artillery barrages. His small retinue of three guardsmen and a medic were accompanying him. It was he who would break through the rebel lines. His power sword was raised skywards, and he sprinted forward. His heavily armed retinue, each with a plasma gun, except the medic, struggled to keep pace.  
  
The unit's Leman Russ Demolisher was nearby, and the tank's commander swung the hatch open to look out. It would be the last thing he saw as a rebel mortar shell came crashing down onto the cupola, spreading massive clouds of shrapnel down the hatch, killing the crew and effectively destroying the vehicle.  
  
The explosion deafened the Captain, but he didn't need to hear anyway. Just kill. His retinue laid down cover fire as he darted forward into the first combat, where one squad of Death Korps guardsmen were fighting a bloody melee of swirling bayonets with the black-clad rebels. The squad's sergeant did a double take, seeing the Captain.  
  
"Sir!" the sergeant called out. Reinhardt had other things on his mind right now; he didn't answer.  
  
An insurrectionist armed with a laspistol and a knife was his first victim. The rebel stabbed at Reinhardt, who easily parried the blow with his power sword; the parrying blade went straight through the knife, and cut off most of the man's hand. He keeled over, clutching his hand, and Reinhardt lopped his head off just in time to sidestep another rebel clumsily wielding a lascutter. Before the rebel could bring the weapon to bear again, his head was already separated from his body, and Reinhardt added another tally to his mental kill list. The rebel squad, although much larger, was now almost completely gone, ripped to shreds by the better trained, better armored and better equipped Death Korps guardsmen. The remaining six insurrectionists turned tail and attempted to flee, only to be gunned down by their former opponents as they ran. This same scene was happening all around the battlefield; the rebel's defenses on this flank were crumbling, Krause's concentrated attack strategy had worked.  
  
Now, we take the citadel, thought Reinhardt.  
  
-  
  
A single battle cannon shell was all it took to destroy the citadel's gates, the last remaining rebel stronghold on the moon. The rallied squads of guardsmen flooded in, with Reinhardt at the front. It was an elegant building, once, before the Imperial eagle banners were burned, and statues of Imperial Heroes were smashed. Now it looked like a fire had ravaged it, with burned out furniture littering the courtyard, where the ranks of Guardsmen were slowly beginning to form up firing lines. A dozen or so rebels, armed with autoguns and lasguns, opened fire from stairways and stylized-gothic turrets. Missile teams took up firing positions, while the odd Death Korps trooper was picked off. Through comm-links, Platoon #1's Lieutenant, who also served as the Gunnery Master for the entire unit, coordinated a strike on a single spot of the citadel, where the rebels were positioned. The krak missiles, on queue, were let fly and smashed into the structural weak point, ripping massive chunks of support beams and masonry out of the walls. The entire section collapsed, instantly killing the lightly armed rebels taking cover in the turrets and stairways.  
  
A single man, the mastermind of the uprising, who was an aging former PDF Lieutenant, walked out of the citadel's inner sanctum entrance. He held a white flag, and approached Reinhardt, who raised his hand to delay any firing.  
  
The flag was makeshift, probably made within the previous few minutes, as the Lieutenant wisely but timely saw the end to his rebellion was near. He collapsed to his knees, and looked up at Captain Reinhardt Krause.  
  
"Please! Forgive me, in the Emperor's name, I was wrong! I was wrong! I could not. I could not see any other way! The Emperor's servants tithe our planet dry of it's natural resources, I could not stand to see things like that happen. I beg of you, sir, for your mercy!"  
  
Reinhardt looked down at the man, disgusted to the core by his lack of a spine.  
  
"Have all your forces agreed to surrender?" Reinhardt inquired.  
  
"By the Emperor's light, yes!" the former Lieutenant rasped, nodding several times. "In the inner sanctum, my bodyguard and all that remains of my followers have laid down their arms. Emperor forgive us." The man wept openly, and Reinhardt stepped past him, waving to all units to follow. The Captain and the few hundred Guardsmen following him walked into what was probably the biggest indoor room on the planetoid.  
  
There were almost a hundred unarmed, black-clad men with their heads behind their head. The former Lieutenant scrambled to his feet and ran over to Krause again, and again standing on his knees.  
  
"Please, good sir, grant me pardon, I will do anything to atone."  
  
Reinhardt looked down at him, and smiled for the first time since he arrived on Giedi II. The former lieutenant's eyes glimmered with hope, seeing Reinhardt's smile.  
  
"Honorable sir! You have made the right choice! I.."  
  
He suddenly stopped talking as he was suddenly starring down the barrel of Reinhardt's plasma pistol. His eyes grew wide, and his entire head was no more than a red/grey stain on Captain Krause's brown greatcoat.  
  
Reinhardt smiled again as he looked forward at the horrified faces of the surrendered insurrectionists, and spoke.  
  
"All units, open fire!"  
  
And somewhere in the warp, a great power cackled with delight as it received a fresh infusion of souls. 


End file.
